


Not You Again

by Incogsneato



Category: Peep Show
Genre: First Meetings, M/M, Porn Magazines
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-05
Updated: 2015-02-05
Packaged: 2018-03-10 14:47:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3294317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Incogsneato/pseuds/Incogsneato
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeremy is the cashier at a corner shop and Mark is managing to keep it together after JLB goes bust. They meet after Johnson sends Mark on an embarrassing errand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mark 1

 

Johnson had finally decided to get over his midlife crisis and move out of Mark's flat after two weeks of failed business plans, wallowing and ruining Mark's fridge organisation paradigm.

When Johnson first moved in Mark had felt powerful, this man who was once his superior had lost his job just like him, only Mark was able to get a job at JLB's sister firm. His paranoia about the company stability had paid off. He had taken to volunteering each time a brief needed to be taken over to their head office and had worked his way into the good books of the two receptionists there. They were nice older ladies, and so Mark found that he shared a lot of their vexations. He somehow managed to convince them he was human and they were able to recommend him for a minor position. He wasn't paid nearly as much as at JLB but at least he wasn't unemployed.

And for those two weeks that Johnson was staying with him, he felt immensely superior. But Johnson's boundless charm meant he wasn't out of work long. In fact when he informed Mark that he was moving out Mark didn't expect to see him again. But there he was at the front of the conference room on Tuesday as his new supervisor.

After the meeting Johnson gestured to Mark with all of his old authority. Mark tried to remember that this was the same man that was eating ice cream with a ladle and crying over Big Suze. Seeing Alan Johnson as a blubbering puddle of a man had almost destroyed any of the attraction Mark had felt towards him, but the commanding businessman in front of him was a completely different person and Mark obediently scuttled over to him.

"Corrigan! I'm sending you on an errand. I have a meeting at 5 and I want to exude 'confident and driven' not 'impatient and frustrated' get me a pack of cigarettes, a copy of Busty Beauties and a chocolate milk." He purred.

"Okay" Mark said without thinking.

"Good man Corrigan, wish I had ten more like you."

Johnson strode out of the room and Mark scrambled for a pen before he forgot his task.

 

\---

 

Mark stepped over the threshold of the corner shop and was greeted by an electronic chiming that he took an instant dislike to. This was not Mark's usual corner shop and he felt uncomfortable in the unfamiliar environment.

The cashier had an earring. He looked like the kind of guy that went to places and talked to people and then  _didn't_ hate himself afterwards. Bastard. Mark supposed it was a good thing that this wasn't his regular corner shop because if he had to ask someone to ring up and bag a porn mag for him he'd rather never have to see that person again. Isn't this why the internet was invented? To stop embarrassing exchanges like this?

Mark handed over the chocolate milk and cigarettes.

"That all mate?"

 _I'm not your mate._ Mark tried his best to avoid being openly rude to the minimum-wagers in an effort to dissuade mugging. 'That man smiled at me once maybe I won't follow him home and kill him with a bread knife.' A remote possibility but it could happen.

"Can I get a –" Mark gestured to the low shelf behind the till. God don't make me say it."Copy of B-B-Busty Beauties please." Yes. I, Mark Corrigan, did just ask to purchase a pornographic magazine out loud.

A smile slowly spread across the cashier’s face.

"It's not-" Mark could feel his face getting warm. He didn't bother finishing his sentence. It's fine Mark, people exchange money for goods and services, that's how the economic system works. If they didn't want you to buy the magazine they wouldn't sell them.

"Which one were you after mate?"

Fucking shit-balls, they have more than one kind. "Uh…that one." Mark pointed wildly.

"That'll be £13.50, mate"

Mark scrambled for his wallet and almost ran from the store.

 

The Tuesday meeting with Johnson came around again.

"Bit disappointed in you Corrigan" Johnson said as he approached Mark after the arduous meeting "Thought you'd be able to pick a decent porn mag. Should've seen the tits on page 3,  _not_  impressive. But I'm a forgiving man, I'll give you another shot." Johnson wore a look that said 'You will be buying me pornographic material, Corrigan.' And Mark could feel his heart drop into his shoes.


	2. Mark 2

**_Johnson wore a look that said 'You will be buying me pornographic material, Corrigan.' And Mark could feel his heart drop..._ **

 

Oh dear merciful god. It's the same guy behind the counter. His face broke into a stupid grin of recognition that made Mark want to disappear into his shoes. Mark immediately tried to think of another corner store that he could get the magazine from but there were none within walking distance.  _Damn you efficient London public transport for making it unnecessary to own a car._  And he wasn't going to be late.

' _I suppose it's a good thing that it's the same guy. I won't have to embarrass myself in front of a whole other person._ ' Mark tried to justify to himself ' _At least it isn't a woman'_  
Mark cringed at the idea of some poor, soft, flowery girl scanning and bagging his pages of shame. He got the milk and found himself glancing back at the cashier. He was making note of something on a scrap of paper and not paying any attention to Mark, thank God. All shop staff should be like that. I know where the bloody milk is, I don't need any help finding it, all I need you to do is take my money when I'm done. Don't even make eye contact with me, thank you.

 _No Mark. Not everyone is like you._  He thought as he handed over the quart.

"That all, ma-?"

"No it isn't." Mark said before the cashier could make him his 'mate'  
He could see a smile playing around the corner of the man's mouth. ' _Yes, I am going to buy another fucking magazine! And you're not going to say a fucking word about it or so help me I will pour this milk over your fucking head_.'

JEREMY his name tag declared in a satisfyingly plain black font. It had a small smiley-face sticker on it. Mark hoped that wasn't an indication of some sort of merit system. If the feather-earring-wearing hippie in front of him was this store's idea of an exemplary employee than he would hate to see the disgruntled maniac that must be working the night-shift.

"Could I get that copy of Busty Beauties, please." He said gesturing to what he assumed was a summer special.

"Sure thing, mate"

_Still not your mate._

Mark decided to have a flip through the magazine. He did not want to be made to go through this ordeal again. He riffled through the pages in an attempt to gauge whether Johnson would approve of the collection of poses and womanly-appendages when a scrap of paper fell out from between the pages. It read:

**Hi –the cashier**


	3. Jeremy 1

Ugh, fuck Simon, he gets a new girlfriend who's super into yoga and now Jeremy has to swap shifts with him. Tuesday's were his creative jam sesh days! Well, to be honest they usually turned out to be his sleeping-till-late-afternoon days but even so, they were fucking sacred.

  
He'll see, when what's-her-face dumps him he can take his shit Tuesday shift back. Starting at the crack of 10am it was the most brutal morning Jeremy had had in years. He wasn't a lazy bugger for sure, he'd just had years of night jobs and readjusting would be killer.  
  
 _Ding ding ding dong_ the fun chimes went. A neat bloke with parted hair stepped in looking jittery. Jeremy kept an eye on him, when people looked this shifty it sometimes meant they were gonna nick something, though this guy didn't look the sort.

 

The man avoided eye contact as he placed his items on the counter which was a shame. He had dark, almost black, brown eyes that Jeremy could have stared at for ages. He wondered how they’d look if he was high. But enough blank staring, dude probably wants to pay for his shit and get back to his fucking job at the library or whatever.

"That all mate?"

The man made eye contact with him for a split second before glancing away.   
  
"Can I get a –Copy of B-B-Busty Beauties, please?" He stammered.

  
Jeremy’s mind paused for a second. Did I hear correctly? This bloke? Really? Hah, you're actually alright, mate.

“It’s not for- ”

"Which one were you after mate?"  _God help me, he’s adorable._

"Uh…that one." The man flung his arm wildly. 'He has no fucking clue, I’ll just pick the one I’d go for.'

"That'll be £13.50, mate"

He made some kind of noise that could have been a muttered thank you and fled.


	4. Jeremy 2

Simon hadn’t been dumped by his yoga girlfriend yet so here Jeremy was again, pulling a punishingly early Tuesday shift. It was just after 10am and he began by restocking the milk and other shit in the fridge. Like the plastic triangles with sandwiches in them, why the fuck do these go in the fridge? They go bloody soggy. Whatever, he didn't have to eat them.

Jeremy was just about to write today off as being a boring train ride through hell when who should walk in but his Busty Beauty Friend.

The man walked over to the fridge and pulled a face at the sandwiches.

'I know mate, I know. They look gross as fuck.'

He abandoned them and picked out a quart of milk.

‘Good call’

He was struck with an absolutely brilliant idea. He’d write him a note. There were stray post-its everywhere around the till and he found a not completely dead biro in a draw. All thought left his mind when he touched pen to paper. After a few seconds he managed to remember one word.

**Hi**

How bloody poetic. Wait, what if he thinks it’s just an accidental scrap of paper? He added

**-the cashier**

Fucking well done, Jeremy. 

 

The man was approaching the till. Jeremy hoped he’d buy another mag so he could slip the note in, otherwise he’d just put it in the bag.

"That all, ma-?"

"No it isn't." he said curtly. Jeremy concentrated very hard on not giggling. "Could I get that copy of Busty Beauties, please?"

"Sure thing, mate"


	5. Mark 3

**_...a scrap of paper fell out from between the pages. It read:_ Hi –the cashier**

Mark almost vibrated out of his ill-fitting suit. The cashier left him a note. Left a note in his  _porn_  mag. Well the magazine wasn't actually for Mark, but he didn't know that. Mark quickly shoved the note into his pocket lest anyone see it. Why was he so worried? It just said 'hi' there's no need to freak out.

Maybe that's what people do? You see someone a number of times so you leave them a note. The cashier, Jeremy, was probably trying to get friendly with Mark so he'd keep coming back. Just like how Mark worked his way into the good books of those two elderly receptionists, it was business.

Well it wasn't going to work, Mark told himself. He was never going to go near that shop again. Mark managed to push the incident from his mind and returned to work.

Johnson was satisfied with his efforts and Mark quickly got out of his way in case he decided to appoint Mark 'official porn administrator.

The next week went by in a flurry of pie charts, photocopies and misfiled forms. And Mark hardly gave that corner shop a thought until it was Tuesday again. 'Would Jeremy notice that he didn't show up?' He thought as his lunch break. He didn't need to show up, he didn't owe Jeremy anything.

Mark couldn't stop himself from glancing anxiously at his watch as their meeting time approached. Mark definitely didn't feel obligated to turn up just because the cashier had left him a note…that being said he couldn't stomach the thought of another tasteless cafeteria lunch. Maybe he could grab a bite from somewhere outside the building? And if that 'somewhere' just happened to be the corner shop that Jeremy worked at then so be it.

Mark raced out of the building.  
He was in a rush because he didn't want to be late back, he told himself.

He was greeted by the familiar electronic chiming when he opened the door. And Jeremy was there behind the till, not that Mark cared. All Mark cared about was getting lunch, obviously. He picked out the least soggy looking sandwich from the fridge (why were they in the fridge?) and made his way to the counter. He avoided Jeremy's eyes. Pretending he hadn't noticed the note was probably the best course of action.

"Hey, mate" Came Jeremy's voice "Anything else today?"

"Uh-" Mark hadn't thought this far. Surely to continue 'the ritual' he needed to buy a magazine. Luckily before he could work himself into an indecisive panic Jeremy brought out a magazine from under the counter.

"I put the new issue aside for you." He said with a smile.

"Uh, thanks" Mark squeaked.

Jeremy scanned and bagged the two items and Mark turned to leave.

"See ya." Came Jeremy's voice from behind him as the door swung shut.

Mark sat at one of the benches in the deserted courtyard outside the office building and got out the magazine. Not that he was overly eager to check, of course, just curious. He flicked through the pages and came to one with a semi-clothed young lady who appeared to be in the middle of a gymnastic routine. There was also a scrap of paper tucked into the magazine at this page.

**I posed like this last night –the cashier**


End file.
